


Unfulfilled Victory

by roundest_boi



Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canonical Character Death, Fuck Arthur's Speech, Galahad Is Not Okay, I Made Myself Cry, I'm Bad At Tagging, Losing What You Almost Had, M/M, Neither am i, Self-Indulgent, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:55:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22432213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roundest_boi/pseuds/roundest_boi
Summary: Aftermath of Tristan's death for Galahad.
Relationships: Galahad/Tristan (King Arthur 2004)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	Unfulfilled Victory

**Author's Note:**

> ... Enjoy?

_Sometimes_ , he reflected as he rested his already healing wounds, _the worst part of it all was that he hadn't known._

He hadn't _known_. 

Not until every enemy was at the ground, victory feeling sweet and freeing. It took him a moment - a precious one at that - to realise he couldn't cheer. 

When he looked - and he was damned to look as Hell itself haunted him with loss and grief - to his surroundings and found some of his brothers not standing alongside him... it might have been his own way of dying, his heart refusing to survive yet another blow.

But it was before he knew Tristan had fallen.

At the sight of Tristan, strong and so self-asserted Tristan, fallen between the bodies of men he wished he could kill a hundred thousand times for him to come back, that was when tears truly came to his eyes; relentless, desperate.

Everything that was him cried, screamed, enraged in the name of _him_ ; his mind full and overflowing with denial. His body moved on its own, as Bors moved Tristan's- 

Tristan's _body_. He reminisces himself taking him in his arms - as he had done so many times before, in battle and peace - and letting him be on the ground so gently, in a way Galahad didn't trust himself to do any other day of his life. He wasn't _made_ for this, for this care and tenderness; but for Tristan rules simply bent. 

He was ashamed, because his tears had fallen upon Tristan's serene face and marred what was nothing but a _honorable sacrifice_ of the old man's part; there was no reason to regret, for Tristan had died fighting for what he was: a free man.

Ashamed and broken, he had barely contained himself from spitting on Arthur’s face. _Better was to be alive_ , he said. _Better was to be with me_ , he had meant. 

And until that moment - bellow the light of torches and the satisfaction of having done something memorable - he finally understood.

He had loved Tristan for so long, it felt as if he had all the time to continue doing so. And here he now was, missing what he never knew he had.

Sometimes, the worst of it all was that he hadn't known before it was _too late_.


End file.
